


Help A Guy Out

by SupernaturalWinchester67



Series: Supernatural 100 Kink List & Kink Bingo Fics [27]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bondage, Duct Tape, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 17:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16837447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SupernaturalWinchester67/pseuds/SupernaturalWinchester67
Summary: Reader rescues Dean on a hunt but he doesn’t get set free right away…





	Help A Guy Out

“Babe,” you breathed out, a sigh of relief when you caught sight of him in the basement. Apart from a small cut on his cheek, he looked unharmed.

“Take care of those crazy witches?” he asked. You nodded and jogged down the steps, taking him in better, biting back a laugh. “What?”

“Um, why are you only in your underwear?” you asked. He scowled and nodded over to his clothes.

“One of them thought I had a hidden blade on me. Took off my freaking clothes. I mean she was right and all but…” he trailed off.

“Ah, that’s why you’re still all tied up,” you said, walking around the post his arms were pinned back around, the duct tape around his wrists strong, nothing sharp enough to rub against and try to break free. “Lookin’ a little helpless there, Dean.”

You walked around to his front, noticing the light sheen of sweat that had broken out over his skin. He glanced down and then up at you, jerking on his hands to feel them binding him tight. He let out a pant and rested his head back against the post.

“Need something?” you asked, smiling and running a hand through his hair, letting it stick up as he looked up with dark eyes.

“What’s a guy got to do to make a gal like you cut me free?” he asked, trying to keep his voice smooth and cool. Unfortunately it was laced with submission, that high, hoarser voice that came out when he wanted to be owned.

“Oh, nothing at all. I was just admiring how fucking hot you look like this. Naked apart from that little bit of cloth that isn’t hiding much. Sweaty all over those strong muscles, whipping your hair up all fucking adorably. Oh yeah, and the fact that you and all that muscle are trapped unless I let you go. You look so good I think I might want to keep you like this all the time,” you said, watching him visibly catch his breath in his throat, swallow down the gulp that came with it.

“Please,” he said quietly. You knelt down next to him, running a finger over his jaw, a light touch that had him squirming when it tickled. You trailed it lower, under his chin and over his neck, his head tilting up as he tried to shift his arms. He whined when he knew it was no use and gave a tiny smile. He always loved when you did this to him.

“What do you say Dean? Want me to show you how good I can make you feel? Make you beg for me to tie you up and do whatever I want, whenever I want?” you asked, moving your finger lower, tracing over the lines of his muscled chest as he bit his bottom lip.

“Yes,” he whispered, whining when you pulled your hand away. “P-please Y/N.”

“Shush Dean,” you said, moving to the side, undressing your self. “You’re already exactly where I want you. Just want you to sit back and enjoy the show.”

“Enjoy the…” he said, watching as you sat down in front of him, reaching forward to pull off his boxer-briefs. You tossed them to the side and threw him a wink. You slid a hand up his thigh, rubbing your thumb in circles right next to his base, his legs twitching as they tried to stay still.

“Now,” you said, moving your hand away when he was closing his eyes. “Want you to watch me babe.”

A pair of needy green eyes found yours and trailed down, just in time to see you dip a finger through your folds. He groaned but kept his gaze on you, watching you rub circles into your bud, over and over again. He got hard just by looking, always turned on by a bit of teasing. 

He knew how fucking hot it was for you to see a strong powerful man like himself squirming and whining for you to have your way with him. Which was why when he finally hit his breaking point, when he was begging for you to hop on his lap and ride him until he couldn’t take another second, you knew Dean could be pushed just a hair harder.

“Please, please, please, please,” said Dean quietly, arms straining at not being able to reach out and touch you. You hummed, dipping two fingers inside yourself, pumping them in and out lazily. 

“You’re right, this is good too,” you said, curling your fingers, a shiver running down your spine. 

“N-need you. Please Y/N. Need it so fucking bad,” he said, no play acting on his part. 

“You do look like you need something,” you said, pulling your fingers out, scooting over to sit in front of him. You held them up to his lips, soaked in your juices and watched as he sucked them into his mouth, lapping up every taste of you he could get at. He was gone now, completely ignorant to the fact that not ten minutes ago he was in a shitty situation with no clear way out. “I got you babe.”

You removed your fingers and kissed him, a little forceful but nothing too rough. His bottom lip was fat and swollen from where he’d been biting into it. He was happy to open up his mouth, invite you into the wet and warm there. You smiled at how safe he felt, so very different from the concern on his features when you walked down those steps.

You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, one hand cupping his cheek, the other running through the back of his hair. He was so damn distracted he nearly missed when you tilted your hips and started slipping him through your folds. He groaned at how slowly you went, clenching your walls as you took inch by inch.

He sighed and rested his head on your shoulder when you ground your hips against him. You did it again and his head whipped up, legs kicking as you put your weight on them to hold him still.

“Gonna take real good care of you, Dean,” you said, shifting your hips so you could raise up and lower yourself back down on him. He was sat upright and it wasn’t the best angle for deep hard thrusts but a slow grind was exactly what you had in mind tonight. Dean sank into it, letting you push him, build the fire in him up until he was out of breath, kissing you over and over again when he wasn’t asking for more. “Shit Dean, gonna make me come around that thick cock of yours.”

He made some sort of noise, half-moan, half-whimper, when you picked up your pace, dragging his length along your walls on every stroke. It was a low and intense orgasm, your back arching and the hand in his hair fisting roughly. He came without being asked, filling you up as you grabbed his face and moaned into your kiss. He dropped his head back as you worked the last bits of pleasure from him, smilng into your mouth. 

When he was spent, breathing hard with closed eyes, you slid off him and crawled over to your clothes. You threw them on and grabbed your blade, cutting him loose. He winced and you helped rub the soreness from his shoulders as he moved them in front of himself. He was tired and didn’t protest when you helped him into his pants and shoes. He had trouble with his shirt and sighed, looking at you as you finished tying his boot.

“Help a guy out?” he asked. You slipped the tee over his head and moved each arm one at a time, spotting the bruise between his shoulder blades he’d declined to tell you about. 

“Let’s get you home and in bed,” you said, throwing his arm over you shoulder and getting him to his feet. 

“Thanks for saving me,” he said, kissing your temple as he got his footing. 

“Anytime babe.”


End file.
